


Good Mystical Morning

by Finnspiration



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: 1930s, AU, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Carnival AU, Circus, Dreams, M/M, Tarot, big cats, fortune teller, lion tamer, tarot reading, tiger tamer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnspiration/pseuds/Finnspiration
Summary: Rhett is enamored with fellow carnival worker, Link Neal.  It's the 1930s and times are tough, but Rhett enjoys his life travelling and entertaining folks with his pet lion and tiger.  He can't get handsome but reticent tarot reader Link Neal out of his head, though.  He'll find any excuse to talk to the man...
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin & Link Neal, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 68
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't that he was a bad fortune teller. He was very good in his way, Rhett thought, but perhaps it wasn't in the way he intended.

Mr. Neal had deep-set eyes and a pronounced blue gaze that made him seem very serious, until he smiled. He could be odd, and shy, and he talked too softly to be heard sometimes, bent over his cards, explaining, but not explaining in a way that made sense of most people.

Instead of whether you'd meet a tall, dark stranger, he'd give rambling expositions on all of the cards' possible meanings, or perhaps something about their history. Or he'd clumsily drop them all, scattered across the floor of his little tent, leaving him to scramble after them and apologize. 

He had shaky hands and a moth-eaten seers robe outfit, and the tent's sides blew up in a strong wind if not fastened down just right, revealing glimpses of flustered patrons who'd probably hoped to be anonymous.

_ Mr. Neal: Fortunes Told _ was not the most popular booth at the carnival. At least, it didn't have many repeat visitors. There was always a gaggle of girls who needed to go in more than once, Rhett noticed, a little jealously, but it didn't appear they actually captured Link's attention. Link was handsome in a boyish way that made young women like him, but he never really seemed to notice anybody himself. 

Rhett made sure to take the time to drop by just after the carnival closed for the day. He stood by the chair opposite Link's crystal ball, faded satin tablecloth, and worn tarot cards. If cards could look tired, they would.

Link certainly did. He glanced up when Rhett entered, but his expression didn't change. Rhett folded himself onto the chair. They were always too small for him, these chairs, or actually anything made for normal sized people. 

He didn't love being tall enough he had to duck through doorways. It made being part of a carnival a little better of a job, because not only did it suit his restless nature, but he also didn't have to spend as much time indoors, cringing away from hurting himself or someone else.

He wasn't too big for his lion and tiger.

He held his hand out. "Gonna read my palm for me, Link?"

He kept trying to find excuses for Link to hold his hands, but so far, no dice. He'd been more than halfway flirting with the man since they first met, two weeks ago. Maybe teenage girls weren't the only ones bowled over by Mr. Neal's clumsy charm and boyish good looks.

"I don't read palms," said Link. He stood up and pulled his purple star-patterned robes off. His shirt pulled up a little on the way as he wriggled free, and Rhett stilled as he caught a glimpse of belly, soft-looking, pale, slim and lightly hairy in an intriguing pattern. 

Great, now Rhett's hands itched for that, too. Link hung the robe carefully, adjusting the oversized lapels. He seemed twitchy and distracted. He liked things to be neat, organized just so, and Rhett knew he had a moment uninterrupted to just study the man while he was so distracted. 

Link seemed unusually downhearted today. Rhett wondered why.

It was a hot day, and sweat marked the lower back of Link's thin white shirt. He must've gotten very hot under those robes, sitting in the tent baking in the middle of the day. It hadn't been windy enough to blow the tent's sides up even once. 

Rhett had been busy and sweaty himself, but at least he didn't have a fancy costume to wear. He just looked after his big cats.

Rhett wasn't naturally much of a lion tamer, but he loved attention and performing, and after he'd inherited a lion cub from his weird uncle, he'd ended up teaching it a few simple tricks and going on the road, joining up with carnivals and freak shows whenever he could. 

It wasn't much of a living, but it was better than farming, and a lot more fun than anything where he'd be stuck in place, slowly going mad from boredom.

There were things that Rhett missed about home and family, and the small town he'd grown up in, but there were times when he felt like he could only breathe because he'd finally left.

Somewhere along the way, he'd acquired a tiger, too, and the poor little thing had gone from undersized and underfed to a clumsy, friendly, nearly-healthy adult who was best friends with his lion. Most of the time, the lion looked regal, with his big healthy mane, but anyone who got to know him would realize how very much he wasn't.

The two could be very silly together with their play wrestling. They always slept next to each other, groomed each other, and generally acted like they'd been best friends forever. 

He knew he'd gotten lucky in the big animal department, since they were both really gentle, no matter how fierce they looked. He could always tell if it was a good idea to try any of the more risky tricks that day or not, and he listened to his instincts. 

If the animals were distracted or distressed, he didn't ask them to do anything that involved their teeth being near him. Most of the time, he'd just charge admission to let people see them play together, while he tossed their big rubber ball in.

It was no good playing up the dangerous wild animal angle, not with those two, since they could be so silly together. But he liked the laughs he got when he could show how funny and sweet they were. 

It felt really good to make people forget their hard lives for a little bit. To put smiles on the faces of weary, exhausted people. Sure, he liked money and travel, and this was the only way he could afford to keep his big pets, but it was a good feeling nonetheless.

Except for the restlessness that travel didn't quite touch, Rhett was pretty happy. If only he didn't keep getting distracted by unfairly handsome guys, it would be a pretty amazing life. Rhett knew very well he wasn't supposed to notice guys as much as he did, or want to hold the hands of particularly gentle and clueless ones like a certain Mr. Link Neal.

Link looked so tired today. 

"What's wrong?" asked Rhett. He wanted to put his hand on the back of Link's neck and give him a little squeeze, but he was pretty sure that was a pathetic thing to want.

He tried to refocus as Link sat down across from him again with a little sigh. He slumped there and pulled a pair of glasses on, then focused on Rhett, and seemed able to see him better now.

"It's weird that you wear glasses," said Rhett.

"What?"

"Because you're supposed to be able to see everything else so clearly." He gestured to the table.

Link frowned, just a sad little frown, maybe even hurt. "Well, I don't." He picked up the cards and began to shuffle. "In fact, sometimes I don't see things very clearly at all." 

He continued to shuffle. A couple of cards slipped free. He bent down to get them and sat up again, his hair messier now. He had a lot of dark hair. It was very soft-looking and in need of a cut.

"Ask your question," said Link, shuffling and shuffling. "We're going to be late for the meal." 

The carnival workers all ate together at a sort of chuck wagon paid for by the carnival owners as part of the deal. They weren't employees. They just hooked up with the carnival, paying a cut of their earnings to be part of it, and all traveled together. They were on their own for the rest of their accommodations, and there was no long-term agreement to stay with the carnival. Acts regularly came and went in these sorts of situations. Since Rhett had joined, though, he was in no hurry to go elsewhere. At least not until Link did.

Link held the deck out for Rhett to tap. Rhett wasn't sure it was the normal way to do things, but Link had his own systems, his own ways of doing things. It was the one thing that had made Rhett wonder if they might become close. Rhett knew he was a little odd, but Link was, too. That gave him hope.

Rhett stroked his beard, trying to look thoughtful and intelligent. He hoped someday he could grow a mane as great as his lion's, but so far he hadn't had any luck. His sandy beard grew in patchy and disconnected, and he'd been trying to grow it ever since he could shave. He rather envied Link's dark, sleek mustache. 

Rhett tapped the cards lightly. "Are we going to be friends?" he asked the cards, or more precisely, Link.

Link spread the cards out and gestured for him with one of those elegant, slim-wristed hands. He had very mobile, expressive hands and used them a lot when he talked. Even when Rhett wasn't thinking about how to hold one of them, he liked to watch them move.

"Pick one," said Link tiredly.

Rhett pulled a card, his sweaty fingers making him fumble self-consciously. The worn cards seemed not to want to come to him, but he got one worked out eventually and turned it over. 

A naked man and woman stood on it looking at each other. 

"The lovers," said Link flatly.

Rhett felt heat creep up his neck.

"Signifying duality, partnership, decisions, and romance. Sometimes all four. It also represents Gemini, which is me." He took the cards back and began to shuffle them, not really focused on the task at hand as he continued to talk. "Big commitments, life changing love, partnership, marriage. It's not always about romance, of course." 

"Of course," said Rhett, trying not to grin.

Link glanced up at Rhett self-consciously, then let his hair fall forward in front of his glasses as he ducked his head and focused on the cards again. "I saw your act today. I had a few minutes to spare," he mumbled.

Rhett sat up a little straighter. "Oh? What did you think?" The performer in him preened. But the another part of him was nervous as hell. His soft, longing feelings for Link made him vulnerable, made Link's opinion matter an unfair amount.

"Good." Link sighed, like it was just beyond unjust that Rhett could have a good act. "You're kind to them. I thought you were just going to be a blowhard and a bully, but you're—not."

Rhett blinked a few times. "Well, thanks for the assessment."

"You're so loud, and you're always sure of yourself, and you try to get everyone to do what you want," complained Link, giving him a nervous little frown.

"I'm very sociable and well-mannered," said Rhett, trying to defend himself, but not trying very hard. He couldn't be hard on Link when he looked so discouraged, not even if he was being offensive.

Link's hands were shaking a little as he spread the cards out again. Rhett reached over and lightly touched the back of one of those elegant, slightly hairy hands. "You scared of me, Neal?"

Link drew back with an offended blink. "I just have shaky hands."

"So I don't make you nervous?" Rhett leaned forward, giving him the full brunt of his charm. He knew he didn't have all that much, but he could make his eyes big and his mouth soft, and sort of smile with his whole face when he wanted to, and Link made him want to.

"You're not as charming as you think you are," said Link, frowning at him. 

Rhett slumped back in his chair. "No. I— If I'm bothering you..."

"You're the only one who talks to me," said Link, sounding as upset about that as anything else. "Pick another card. It'll tell you your future."

In spite of himself, Rhett snorted. "That doesn't work, you know." 

"I know. Things change too fast to know the future."

"Well, some things," said Rhett, who had a lot of thoughts and ideas about the future. Regrettably, they were far away ideas like the ones he read about in his favorite science fiction magazines, not the sort of ideas that would give him any idea what his own life might hold. 

It was hard to picture a future for himself much past the next year or so. Mostly he took things one day at a time, hoping to stay ahead of the hard times that had hit the country, the world—to look after his animals and himself, to keep making people smile. And maybe to get Link to smile, too.

Rhett pulled a card with his sweaty hands and flipped it over with a flourish. His breath caught. A figure was leaning over near a stylized lion, petting it.

"Ooh. That's a good one for you," said Link tapping the card, looking more cheerful. "Strength. It's about mastering your urges, as well as being strong in various ways, and—and it's about passion and fire. Taming a lion through perseverance and gentleness, which is also a kind of strength. It's a complicated card, and a really good one for a lion tamer."

"You make all the cards sound complicated." Rhett leaned forward towards him, smiling. Something about this man just made him want to smile, to get closer. He could listen to Link for hours.

"Well, they are. They don't really tell us things, they make us think of things, and—"

"And that's not what people really want to hear, right?" guessed Rhett. "They just want to hear something nice, something to look forward to. Like that the farm won't fail, even if you live in the Dust Bowl. The marriage won't be awful, even if your fiancé was a rat before you got hitched. And you won't live a life of poverty, even if you don't have two cents to rub together right now." He felt his mouth twist. "But nobody can promise that, can they?"

"No," said Link gathering up his cards with his shaky hands.

"Link," said Rhett, soft and helpless, reaching out to cover Link's hands gently. He didn't know what he was pleading for. Maybe a chance. Maybe just a smile. Link pulled away from him, and Rhett's heart sank. He'd been dumb, dumb, dumb.

Link scowled at him, his expression wary and hurt. "Just because you think I'm soft, you think—" Link broke off and jerked back, hiding his hands in his lap as the tent opened and someone stuck their head in. 

"Hey, lovebirds. The stew isn't going to last long."

Rhett straightened up quickly, feeling shame and alarm prickle up his spine. Did everybody know how he felt about Link?

The tent flat shut, and Rhett and Link stared at each other. 

"I'm sorry," said Rhett. He'd apologize for anything or for nothing, if it would take the unhappiness off Link's face. "I just—I feel so drawn to you. I don't mean to upset you." He cleared his throat. How could he explain the bone-deep pull to just be near Link, to have his attention, to make him smile...to touch him?

The guy had started showing up in his dreams. Rhett had always had lots of odd and vivid dreams, and he enjoyed remembering them and writing them down to think about. He was very into dream symbolism, and all the ideas experts had about why you dreamed. 

Rhett liked that there were no real, clear answers for why a person dreamed, that there was still so much about the human mind that was a mystery. It gave him hope. If even the experts didn't know everything, it made the world seem just a bit better, a place where there were still things to discover, knowledge to unravel, surprises waiting round every corner.

Link was one of the surprises. But he also felt inevitable, because of course Rhett would meet a handsome stranger in a card reader's booth and fall head over heels. Now Link was in Rhett's dreams. Not in the sort of dreams he'd blush to tell anyone about, but the weird ones, the ones with bizarre landscapes and strange adventures. 

Link was just there now, along with the lion and tiger, Rhett's other companions in this life. Sometimes, the four of them were back in the small town where Rhett had grown up, down by the river, swimming or resting on the cool banks under wide tree canopies. 

Sometimes they were going somewhere, and trains were breaking down, horses falling down, obstacles appearing left and right, but they had to soldier on through it. He didn't know Link well enough yet to dream about him so much, but all the same, the man was there in his dreams. They were together there, whether at odds, or working together. Whether Link was getting in his way, laughing with him, angry at him—he was always there, impossible to ignore.

Link stared down at the table, rubbing the faded velvet with his fingertips. "We should go. We should eat."

"Yeah," said Rhett. His throat felt too tight, like he was going to cry. 

Impossible. He hadn't cried in years, except at the moving pictures. But his chest was hurting, and he felt so... He didn't know exactly how he felt, but it wasn't comfortable at all. It felt like wanting something very badly but knowing he would never have it—and still not being able to stop wanting it.

"Don't hate me," he said to Link.

"I couldn't," said Link, his reply immediate and very soft. "Not you." 


	2. Chapter 2

Rhett had a whole train car for his lion and tiger. They stayed in it when not out with him for a show, or on a chain for exercise. He couldn't just let them run loose no matter how much he sometimes wanted to. It would be no good telling anyone they were tame; it would be a shoot first, ask questions later situation if they were out and anyone saw them.

Most of the train car was for the tiger and lion, with a couple of stalls for them to sleep in (though they always picked one and slept curled up next to each other), and places for food, water, and sturdy toys. 

Part of the car was a small walled off room for Rhett. It held a bunk bed and a bit of storage space, but he didn't have a lot of room to collect stuff, unless he wanted to expand his area of the train car, which would have been expensive, and not very nice. 

He already thought his pets were too crowded sometimes. It was weird to think that if they were wild, they'd probably have huge territories of their own—and never meet, of course, since they came from very different parts of the globe.

Rhett tried not to think too much about whether it was actually a good idea to keep these wild and regal creatures as pets. It wasn't like they had a lot of other options, after being born in the wild.

He woke as usual to some thumping sounds and the train car rocking. His furry friends were wrasslin'. He grinned a little and started to roll over to get some more sleep, then changed his mind at the feeling in his bladder. 

He rolled out of the bottom bunk and scratched at his bare chest, pulled on some trousers, and stepped outside to go relieve himself. There were outhouses set up near the carnival, and hopefully they weren't all busy. If they were, he'd have to pick a bush to pee behind, because this was urgent.

Starting down the steps from the train car, he almost fell head over heels over Link Neal. The card reader was curled up on the top step, leaning against the door. 

Rhett swore and jumped back, banging his leg against the bunk, eyes going huge as he stared at Link. If he hadn't been so startled—heart pounding out of his chest at the fright—he'd have entertained some thoughts about Link showing up like that, waiting outside his bedroom. A real romantic situation, possibly.

Link scrambled up, blinking himself awake. "Good gracious! I'm sorry! I—I must've fallen asleep." He raised his hands apologetically. Catching sight of Rhett's bare chest, he looked up quickly to refocus on his face. He looked as apologetic as a kicked puppy. "Are you hurt?"

Rhett swallowed back another spasm of curse words. "I'm fine. You startled me, Neal. What's the matter? Why are you here?"

Link's face closed down a little. Nothing huge, just a change in the openness. He looked less vulnerable than he had a moment ago, his face a little harder. "I wanted to—well, it's not important. Just—I'll handle it myself." 

When he swallowed, you could really see it, Rhett noticed. He had such a prominent Adam's apple. He also had some fine dark stubble this morning, which somehow made Rhett's insides clench in a very disconcerting way.

Rhett gentled his voice and his stance, getting under control. He hadn't fallen, hadn't hurt himself badly, and nothing was really wrong. "Listen, I want to hear you out. Okay? I just need to pee really bad, so if you'll wait here for me, I'd appreciate it."

"I—I should—" Link was backing up, scooting cautiously down the steps. 

Rhett followed him down, making his expression nicer, and caught Link's shoulders firmly when they were both on the ground. "I want to hear you out. Just wait for me." 

With a firm pat on Link's side, he headed past him—and hurried. Link seemed ready to bolt. 

Frankly, Rhett didn't expect to see him again that morning, but there he was, sitting on the bottom step, looking disconsolate and nervous when Rhett got back. 

"Wanna talk here? Or do you want to get breakfast?" Rhett had already caught the scent of frying onions and peppers, and he was salivating for the morning's eggs. There might even be bacon if they were really lucky, although he couldn't smell any so far, so probably not. Maybe biscuits, though. Rhett was probably as motivated by food as his big cats were, so he was trying really hard not to neglect Link and run off for his breakfast.

Link took a cautious look at his face and rose. "I can come with you to breakfast."

"Okay. Could you grab that shirt for me and pull the door shut?"

Link nodded cautiously, headed up the steps (almost tripping once), and snatched Rhett's shirt. He pulled the door shut and climbed back down, handing Rhett his shirt without looking at him. He was being demure and circumspect. 

Ha! But if he really didn't notice Rhett the way Rhett noticed him, he wouldn't bother, would he? Most men didn't seem bothered by being around other men shirtless or even naked. It was only something to be cautious of if you might notice a little more intently than you'd like to let on. 

Rhett knew about that. It made him feel good to know he could make Link a little bit uncomfortable that way, too. It built him up, confidence-wise, after the weeks of Link keeping him at arm's distance.

What had changed today, that he wanted to talk to Rhett badly enough to come see him early in the morning, and wait for him to get up? 

"You know, you could've woke me up if it was urgent," said Rhett as they walked to the food tent. 

Performers and carnies were lining up already, filling plates, chowing down at makeshift benches made of sawhorses and boards, with an assortment of odd chairs, logs, and stools for seating.

"Well, it—it wasn't that urgent, and I thought you might get angry if I woke you."

Probably no angrier than he'd gotten almost tripping over Link, but he decided not to say that. He thought again of the small glimpse he'd gotten of Link, curled up and vulnerable-looking, sleeping leaning against his door. 

Something clenched in him again, and he resisted a shudder. What was it about this man that the least thing he did affected Rhett so strongly? He'd have liked to see Link curled up like that closer to him, maybe shirtless, maybe in his bed... 

Not that it was really big enough for both of them, but he'd figure something out if it ever came to that. 

Link brushed hair self-consciously out of his face. "I need a favor, and I didn't know who else to ask."

Rhett swallowed the half smile that had been growing on his face, and nodded a couple of times. "Oh. Okay." He suddenly felt wicked for thinking of what he'd like to do with Link. Link wanted a favor, and Rhett was jumping ahead to—other things. "What kind of favor?" asked Rhett neutrally.

"Nothing awful," said Link quickly. "Nothing hard."

_ That's what you think _ , thought Rhett, but he didn't dare say the dirty joke he had in mind out loud. Link was skittish enough already.

They reached the front of the line, and Rhett proceeded to fill his plate with some of everything he found: beans, biscuits, apple chunks, toast, and eggs fried with onions and ham and peppers. He glanced at Link, who was scrunching his nose up, selecting things more slowly and cautiously.

"Aren't you hungry?" asked Rhett, as they moved away. 

"Hm?" Link looked up from a distracted daze. 

Rhett nodded at Link's half-empty place. "Aren't you hungry today?"

Rhett was always hungry in the morning. And a lot of the rest of the time. He was a big man, and taking care of his pets kept him busy, sometimes day and night. He worked hard, and he got ravenous. He would probably eat anything if he was hungry enough, but everything here appealed to him. There weren't a lot of foods he disliked.

Link waved a hand awkwardly, bumping into someone's arms as they passed, jarring them so a spattering of beans flew off the edge of their plate. 

"Careful!" Rhett pulled Link back, gripping his arm. 

The woman in question, who had a beard, glared at Link. "Would you watch where you're going?" 

"Oh, sorry. Sorry, can I get you some more—" He started to reach out to grab her plate, nearly dropping his own in the process.

Shaking her head, she moved away from him quickly, before he could do any more damage. Rhett struggled to fight back a laugh.

"You can let go of me now," said Link with a quiet, hurt voice. 

Rhett released the muscular arm under his grip like it was a hot poker and he'd only just realized. Oops. It had felt awfully good to finally have his hand on Link Neal.

"Ahem. Let's find somewhere to sit—out of the way."

He expected Link to sit as far as possible from him after that transgression, but he didn't even sit across the makeshift table. He sat down right next to Rhett on the battered bench they chose, close enough his shoulder almost brushed Rhett's. 

Link started talking in a low, nervous voice. "So, after the carnival today, I—I have a private client lined up. She came to see me earlier in the week, and now she wants a private reading, at her place. In town. Tonight." He looked at Rhett with big, pleading, nervous eyes. They were very, very blue. 

Rhett had to swallow and try hard to stay focused on what he was saying. Link was awfully distracting. It would be hard to deny him anything if he kept looking at Rhett like that. 

It would also be hard not to reach out and lay a palm against his round cheek and just cup it for a moment, stare into those eyes of his and maybe say a few things a man wasn't really supposed to say to another man.

Link stammered on. "I—I don't really know anyone else who I—I could ask to come with me. That is—"

"You need a chaperone?" guessed Rhett. "What sort of reading do you think this is going to be?" What would Link actually do if Rhett ever tried to hold his hand in front of everybody? Get mad and punch him? Maybe pretend it was a joke? Rhett really needed to concentrate...

Link blushed and looked down at his plate. "She's a—a widow who has time, money, and freedom, and—and she made it pretty clear, I guess, that she wouldn't mind spending an evening with the card reader. Me." He cleared his throat, after his voice cracked awkwardly on that last word.

Rhett grinned at his discomfort, even as a sour feeling churned in his stomach. "Sounds like a good gig, if you can get it—without getting hooked into anything permanent."

Link looked up indignantly at his calloused words. "You think it's a good idea, maybe  _ you _ should do it! I'm—I'm not desperate enough to whore myself out. Not yet." He bit his lip, and Rhett's heart stuttered a little.

"Yet?" he asked grimly, his grip hardening on his fork.

"Well, let's just say I can't afford to turn down the money from a private reading right now, either."

Rhett drew back a little and squinted at him. "You havin' money troubles, Neal?"

Link nodded, his expression tight and worried. "Not a real popular booth at this town, in case you haven't noticed. The owner's making noise about, well—" He looked down at his plate without appetite. "You have to pull your weight in this business. I ain't exactly been bringing in a big cut. There's not a lot of people who want to admit to going to a fortune teller in this town. Apparently there was a preacher through recently talking about the evils of certain vices. Put the fear of God into 'em."

"So hold out till the next town," said Rhett irritably. "Don't go taking private clients who want something else from you. You shouldn't need me to tell you that."

"I don't need you to tell me that. It's been like this the last few stops. And till I can find a—a different outfit to hook up with, or a better area or something, I've got to make this work. No way am I ready to settle down and stop traveling." His eyes flashed at Rhett resentfully. "I thought you'd be glad to help, not give me the third degree."

Rhett relinquished his arguments and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. I'll be your chaperone. But don't blame me if it's awkward. And I might need a favor in return sometime."

"Fine," said Link. 

Rhett had deliberately left it vague so it wouldn't sound like he was going to ask for anything that would make Link blush. Not that he'd want to get intimate under those sorts of conditions anyway. He gave himself more credit than that. 

Fortunately, that scenario didn't seem to even occur to Link, who just looked relieved. He finally began eating. Rhett was almost done and ready to go back for more.

#

It was a busy day, with lots of lion and tiger care and multiple shows. It was good money, and he needed it, because the last meat he'd bought for them was nearly gone, and he was still trying to find a good steady source for them. 

He didn't exactly have the time to go out and try to hunt something, and he couldn't afford human food rates, not the amount these two needed to stay healthy. So he'd been asking around, negotiating, and finally gotten a bead on some local chickens and rabbits that could be had for a certain price. 

At the end of the show, the dirt-poor farmer and his two skinny kids were hanging around, waiting for him to finish. They looked hungry enough themselves, and Rhett felt a little bad about not being able to offer more. But times were tough for everyone. 

With all it cost to run this business and stay afloat, he couldn't be wild with the cash. Things got expensive fast, and this was a one-man, hand-to-mouth operation, with two hungry cats to keep fed. 

The family handed over the butchered meat, and he handed over the cash, let them know he'd be in the market for anything else that popped up, the more variety the better, and then he went to feed his boys some tough old birds and some skinny wild rabbits. 

He was just washing up at the pump when Link showed up, casting shy little glances at his bare arms, back, and chest. Rhett wanted to preen, but instead pretended he hadn't noticed the awkward attentions.

Link wore a red button-up shirt and some black trousers that looked a little shiny from wear and age. He'd combed his hair neatly, his glasses were clean, he carried a small, worn leather briefcase that probably held his fortune telling supplies—and he looked nervous as hell. He'd also shaved this morning's stubble and shined his aged shoes. 

"You're a hard worker," observed Link, looking at Rhett's arm muscles.

"Yep," said Rhett. "Let me get a shirt on and I'll be ready to go with you."

"Listen," said Link, a soft lisp creeping into his voice with his nervousness, "I was thinking I'd better treat you to supper in town, since you're going to so much trouble for me."

"It's no trouble," said Rhett. He knew very well Link couldn't afford a meal out, not if things were tight enough that he couldn't afford to turn down a job that clearly made him uncomfortable. "The pleasure of your company will be more than enough." 

Rhett gave him a wink, and was rewarded by a shy look that had Link turning away, and a nervous little laugh that was pleasingly like a giggle. Link had a rather high laugh for a man as tall and broad-shouldered as he was, and it charmed Rhett something ridiculous.

Link followed him to his train car on the old track and waited outside, looking up at him as he took his time finding a shirt and dragging it slowly on. 

He was definitely showing off, and Link had forgotten he wasn't going to watch, because he stood there and stared up at Rhett with a blank look on his face.

"Where do you sleep?" asked Rhett lightly, trying to sound casual.

Link swallowed visibly. "In my tent."

"Don't you get bugs in there? I'd think you'd get bugs."

"S-sometimes."

"I have screens in here. You're welcome to take my top bunk, if it ever gets too much for you."

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire, you mean," muttered Link, low enough that Rhett had plausible deniability, which he definitely took advantage of by ignoring that. 

"Just a thought," Rhett said casually. He sauntered down the stairs, giving Link his nicest smile. Then he slung a companionable arm over Link Neal's shoulders and drew him slightly closer. "Okay. I'm ready to protect your virtue, Mr. Neal."


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe you," said Link. "You just had to go and jinx it all, didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Rhett.

They were walking back together, in the rain, and their voices were growing more and more indignant and loud. The heavy gray clouds overhead seemed to reflect Rhett's stormy mood perfectly. There was fortunately no heavy lightning right now, but that would have fit just as well.

"Every single card I pulled for her was a bad one! You messed everything up, with your cave-man glaring."

"What? I thought you didn't believe in the cards anyway. How could I have messed anything up?"

"I don't know, but you glared the whole time like a...a jealous fool, and—and every single card was awful!" 

It was true that Rhett had found himself frowning at the lady, his stare long and indignant, unable to quite hide how he felt when she found an excuse to touch Link's hand, or flirt with him, fluttering her expensive silken robe, or her long eyelashes. 

Since when did eyelashes matter, anyway? Anybody could have eyelashes. Not that Rhett had much to speak of in that department. He didn't have any silk either, and he didn't have any money to speak of, and he didn't have the soft and mysterious curves of a beautiful woman. Apparently what he did have (according to Link) was an anger problem.

To make matters worse, Link had been especially clumsy, dropping cards left and right, stumbling over his words, mispronouncing things, and generally acting like he was slightly overwhelmed and possibly lovestruck. People didn't get so clumsy for no reason all of the sudden, did they? He'd given her all of his attention, sparing none of it for Rhett, which hurt, even though he knew he was only there to help, pretending to be an assistant and really keeping the friendly widow from getting a little too friendly.

Rhett had sat very close to him, firmly close, thigh pressed firmly up against his. Even though it had been asked of him, and as a favor, it didn't feel like a favor. It felt like he was a guard dog who wasn't particularly wanted. At one point, when Link had dropped all the cards, Link turned to glare at him and asked him very, very politely if he would please go and check the weather for them, since it would be better not to walk home in the pouring rain.

Rhett had stared back at him, unable to believe his nerve. 

"Please?" Link had said pointedly, so Rhett got up and went outside in a huff. Sure enough, it was starting to rain. He went back in as quickly as he could, where Link was shuffling with much more ease, telling the lady something in a reassuring, pleasant voice. She listened with rapt attention, looking slightly relieved, less alarmed than she'd been getting.

 _All my work undone_ , Rhett thought. He knew he was being unfair, but he didn't care. It was hard to care about anything else when some lady was flirting with his Link.

"It's raining," he said coldly.

"I thought so," said Link, giving him a quick little smile that made everything not quite as terrible after all. After that, he'd wound things to a close, accepted his payment, shaken the lady's hand (for an awfully long moment, Rhett thought), and then they'd headed back. Only for Link to start scolding him, of all things!

"You asked me along," Rhett pointed out again.

"Yes, and that was clearly a mistake," snapped Link, his face looking hard and fierce, unknowable in the dim lighting.

Something rumbled overhead—the beginning of thunder—and Link flinched.

"I wasn't as polite as I should've been. Okay. I don't have as much practice as you, clearly. But now you're saying I messed up the _cards_?"

"It's hard to put a good spin on the Tower, okay, Rhett? And Death right after? God! I never pull all the bad cards at once for anybody, no matter what—but you just had to sit there with—with your death glare and they all came up, every one! What's that poor lady going to think?"

"I don't know, why don't you go back and comfort her?" asked Rhett in his nastiest voice. He was ashamed of it, but he still said it.

Link turned to stare at him, open-mouthed. "What's wrong with you? You know I don't want to—"

The thunder boomed louder, and a flash of lightning jumping between clouds lit the world for one electric moment. The rain thrashed down harder now, like stinging cold pellets. Link yelped and jerked at the lightning, and then crouched, putting his hands over his head.

"It's not that close," said Rhett. 

He stopped walking because Link had and stood awkwardly next to him. Rhett was breathing hard, too, but he thought it was from arguing and walking fast, not the storm. Link, however, was visibly shaken. Looking closer, Rhett realized his hands were trembling.

"Come on," said Rhett uncomfortably. "We've got to get back before it gets any closer."

"M-Maybe there's somewhere to shelter." Link looked up at the sky with frightened eyes, and then quickly back down again. He really was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold, was it?

"Link," said Rhett, softer now, slightly cajoling. He touched his arm lightly. "There's nowhere but under the trees. That’s not safe."

He waited a moment, but Link didn't start moving. He was panting like a racehorse, and didn't seem to be focusing on Rhett's words. 

"We're closer to the camp than to town. Come on." He plucked at Link's sleeve. "Link. Link!"

Link finally looked at him, as if coming out of something, remembering he was still there. "Oh, we...oh...Rhett?" It was a question, but not one Rhett understood. 

"Come on, we've got to head back," said Rhett, making his voice a lot gentler, almost like he'd have talked to a child. 

He didn't know what was wrong with Link at the moment, but he suddenly didn't want to fight with him about anything. He wanted to wrap himself around Link and protect him from whatever scared him so bad...even if it was something silly like lightning.

Although, out here in the midst of the storm, it didn't feel quite so silly today.

"Come on, man, let's go," said Rhett, taking him by the arm and pulling him back into motion. 

Link didn't fight him, but let himself be guided. The fine tremors going through his body were like when you'd been in cold water for too long and couldn't stop shivering.

"Almost there," said Rhett.

Link didn't say anything. Rhett gave him a couple of awkward pats on the shoulder and let him walk under his own power, since he seemed to be following without complaint.

Link started to talk in a quiet, shaken voice. "I knew there'd be a storm. I should've known better. I shouldn't have asked you to come. No reason for us both to d-die."

"Nobody's going to die, Link." Rhett tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. Couldn't they have had a proper argument without Link going all soft and biddable and frightened? Rhett couldn't stand feeling this protective and gentle towards him and not knowing what to do with those feelings.

It really was getting uncomfortable, walking out here in the rain, with Link quietly falling apart beside him.

"Link," tried Rhett again. "It's okay. We're fine. Nobody's—"

Another boom of thunder, and this time they both flinched. The flash of lightning didn't appear any sooner, as far as Rhett could tell, counting nervously, but the noise itself was much louder.

"It's fine, it's no closer," he said, turning to Link...only to see he'd dropped to the ground and was curled around himself, eyes squeezed shut.

"You're being ridiculous," said Rhett, crouching down beside him and giving his arm a massaging squeeze. "Do I have to carry you?"

"The Tower...and D-Death...maybe they weren't for her...but f-for me."

"You don't even believe in the cards," Rhett reminded him. "It's all about the unconscious, remember?" He massaged Link a little more, getting into his shoulder and back, crouching over him protectively. It felt unfairly good to touch the man, even now, even like this. 

He clearly had to be strong enough for both of them right now. He took a deep breath and made his voice quietly authoritative. "You can do this. You're going to get up and walk beside me and we'll be home safe and sooner than you'd think. Come on. Get up."

"Home," said Link bitterly. "What's that supposed to be?"

But he got up.

Rhett took hold of his hand firmly and held onto it. Link stuck close, and showed no inclination to pull free or move more than a couple of inches away from him. 

They walked as quickly as possible in the gathering darkness. Link was still shaking, but he didn't complain once, and even when he flinched at the booms and rumbles in the sky, he didn't try to pull free or drop to the ground again. 

It was frustrating and a little scary to see him so shaken, but it moved Rhett to see him so trusting, as well. It felt like Link was going against every instinct to trust and follow him, and that touched Rhett more than he’d have thought possible. Whatever frightened Link so badly about lightning and thunder, he put even more trust in Rhett, to get him to safety.

By the time they got back, they were both drenched. The storm was far from played out, and Link seemed completely drained. Rhett was feeling a bit worn out himself. It had been a big day, and a confusing one. He’d have to think about these things some more later, but right now he just wanted to get dry. He wanted Link to get dry, too. The state he was in, he probably couldn’t be trusted on his own, Rhett thought.

Link didn't put up any argument when Rhett drew him to the train car. He wouldn't get very dry in his tent, the way the wind blew it around, would he? 

Rhett ushered Link inside, wishing uncomfortably that he'd remembered to pick up his socks and put away his dirty clothes earlier. He supposed Link had seen dirty clothes before, but all the same.


	4. Chapter 4

Rhett politely kept his face turned away while Link changed into a dry shirt and pair of trousers borrowed from Rhett. It was still raining outside, and the room felt very small and cramped with a guest.

It hadn't been hard to convince Link to borrow the clothes, not with as soaked as he was. Rhett had changed first, quickly, while talking him into it. Link had kept his face politely turned away.

Rhett felt funny thinking of Link wearing his clothes. He wondered how they'd look on Link, and how he'd feel later, wearing them again himself. If they'd smell like Link later. 

He kept himself turned away, returning the courtesy, virtuously determined not to make Link uncomfortable. More than anything, he wanted to watch Link undress and touch him. But even more than he wanted, he was determined to be a good person, a good friend. 

He wanted Link in his life, even if it couldn't be the way he wanted. So he kept his voice as casual and steady as he could manage, while Link changed behind him in the small space, bumping around clumsily. It took all his willpower not to look.

"Why did that lightning scare you so bad, man?"

"Didn't it scare you?" Link's voice cracked a little.

"Nah, I'm not scared of storms. We got a little wet, but that's all." It had been slightly alarming at the time, sure, but any loud noise or bright light would be. He didn't understand Link's reaction, since he usually seemed pretty calm and collected. Sure, Link could be clumsy, but he didn't freak out. He didn't panic about things. At least as far as Rhett had known.

"Everybody in my family's cautious about lightning," said Link. "Okay, you can turn around."

Rhett turned around quickly, his mouth dry. Link stood there in a pair of Rhett's trousers and one of his shirts. They were slightly too big on him. The trousers pooled at his ankles, and the button-up shirt hung down, a little too long. He'd rolled the sleeves halfway up to his elbows, and it was a really good look on him. Rhett was used to seeing him either completely buttoned up or in his stupid seer's robes. Like this, wearing Rhett's clothes, he looked charmingly disreputable...and oh so attractive. 

He'd already dried his glasses and put them back on, and pushed back his hair with his fingers a couple of times. As Rhett watched, Link finished by tucking the shirt into the pants and pulling the suspenders up to his shoulders. He had a look of concentration, and looked much happier now that he wasn't in wet clothes.

Rhett was fascinated by all of it, and especially found himself noticing Link's hands and arms. Link had dark hair on his arms, a lot of it, and expressive, long-fingered hands. Rhett thought he was so masculine, but also so expressive and careful with his hands, and he had a great capacity for gentleness. And, Rhett now knew, for fear.

He tried to focus on the words. "All your family?"

"Yeah." Link nodded, fiddling with one of the sleeves, adjusting it slightly, so both sleeves were cuffed the exact same way. He focused fully on the task, as if everything else had slipped away for the moment.

When it became apparent he wasn't going to volunteer anything else, Rhett pressed on cautiously. "So did something happen?"

Link looked up, his expression momentarily blank, as if he was just now refocusing on the conversation, maybe even on his surroundings. That lost look made Rhett feel something. He wasn't entirely sure what. It caught his attention in a way that he wasn't quite comfortable with—a way that was different from noticing Link's hands and wrists, or his smile, or his broad shoulders and slim waist. It hit him in the chest. It made him want to protect Link.

"Oh. My great-grandpappy got killed by lightning back home when he was cutting down a tree. It struck the tree and fell on him and he died right there." His accent seemed to get stronger, talking about his family and home. When he said "killed" it came out sounding more like "kill't." He spoke seriously, and his eyes looked worried as he added, "Some said it was a curse and the Neals are cursed to this day. I don't know about that, but when it storms I think on it, even if I don't want to." 

He sat down abruptly on Rhett's bed. It creaked, and Rhett gulped, trying not to let his eyes bug out of his head. But Link was only leaning down to roll up this trousers. He continued talking in a calm, rambling sort of voice, the sort of voice that was perfect for storytelling, that drew you in and made you want to listen hard. 

"I remember my first storm, my grandma would get us all to go into the middle of the room, me and my cousins, and huddle there with no lights on, away from the windows so the lightning couldn't get us."

Rhett arched a brow. If that was how he was raised, he'd be scared of storms no matter what. "But nothing ever happened to you, to make you think lightning's coming for you, and death—the Tower—all of that?" pressed Rhett. He wanted to sit down beside Link, but wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

Link looked up suddenly, his expression vague. He shook his head, then patted the bed beside him. "Don't let me take your bed from you. There's room for us both to sit."

Rhett moved gratefully to his side and eased down beside him, feeling as if he'd been given a gift.

Link turned to him. The bed was big enough for both of them, but it felt very close, intimately close. "You want a reading? I—I don't know how else to thank you." 

He was blushing a little.

"I can think of a way," said Rhett, and gave Link a little wink. He grinned when Link ducked his head. "A reading's fine," he added, making his voice softer, deeper. He reached out—he couldn't help himself—and stroked a hand gently along Link's bare arm.

Link shivered a little.

"Still cold?" asked Rhett, soft and silky.

"N-no, not cold," said Link. He moved away with an awkward smile and got his case open. He fumbled with the tarot cards, shuffling them awkwardly on the bed between the two of them.

"What made you become a card reader, a mystic, a seer?" asked Rhett, enjoying finding synonyms that might get a reaction from Link. None of them did.

Link just shook his head. "My grammy taught me, and I'm good at it. I like it. I like travel, and meeting new people, and there wasn't much for me back home." He glanced up at Rhett, his gaze so blue, his expression a little sad. "Times are tough for lots of folks." Then he looked back down at his cards again quickly, busying himself, trying not to fumble them. He added even more quietly, a soft lisp at the edge of his voice, "I send money to my mother whenever I can. It ain't easy for her."

"Yeah." Rhett cleared his throat. This good and gentle man, so close to him, so out of reach—it overwhelmed him. Link filled his senses, made it hard to think. He wanted to lean closer, to kiss, to touch—and he wanted to listen to him forever. He cleared his throat. "You're a good guy."

"Naw," said Link, immediately dismissing it, sounding embarrassed. "Most 'good guys' are the ones that stick around and get married to some girl, have a bunch of children, and become respectable members of the community. That ain't me." He glanced up self-consciously, biting his lip a little.

"Oh? You're not respectable?" asked Rhett lightly. He could feel a smile growing inside him, like the sun emerging from behind dark clouds, the light sparkling and clear after a cloudburst. "Or you're not the marrying kind?"

"I'm not the marrying kind," agreed Link, nodding a little. Link reached up, scraping fingers back through his damp hair, pushing it off his forehead. "At least, I'm pretty sure." 

He looked a little worried saying it out loud, even just that much of an admission. It didn't have to mean what it meant for Rhett, but it certainly could. Putting it into words at all meant they were  _ almost _ talking about the tension, warmth, and awareness between them—the kind that made men the not-marrying sort.

"But you're not positive?" pressed Rhett. He could help Link find out, any time he wanted to. It was on the tip of his tongue to offer.

"Oh." Link jumped, more startled than seemed reasonable by his fumble of cards. They'd slipped from his fingers like unruly fishes and were now splayed out on Rhett's quilt. 

Three had fallen face up between them, among the scattered face-down cards he hadn't finished shuffling. 

"Oh," said Link again, more thoughtfully. He straightened the three face-up cards into a row so they lined up neatly, then tapped them each one in turn. 

The first card looked like a man holding a sword, with clouds billowing behind him. "Page of swords," said Link very softly. 

"Kinda looks like he's been fighting off a storm," observed Rhett, who was starting to think he could enjoy looking for his own meaning in the card pictures. 

He felt proud of himself, for protecting Link from the storm, a little bit like a knight himself. Even if it was only in a very small way, he had helped Link today.

"This Page is perceptive, but not the expert he thinks he is. Communicative and enthusiastic." He looked up, and his grin was wry, but he was blushing again. "Energetic and passionate."

Rhett grinned. He was thoroughly enjoying this reading—so close, so intimate. Full of the things they were thinking and feeling, like they were letting the cards speak between them. 

"What's that one?" Rhett touched the second card, his fingers grazing Link's fingers lightly in the process. 

Link's hand fluttered back, then returned, touching the edge of the card, tugging to get it free from beneath the pressure of Rhett's fingers. Rhett pressed down for a second, then let him win, getting it free before the card could bend too much. 

It had a round circle, some symbols, and clouds and mythical-looking animals. Lots of clouds, again. 

"Wheel of Fortune," said Link, holding it up between two fingers to show to Rhett. "Things are always changing."

"Yeah," agreed Rhett, feeling breathless, wondering how anybody ever managed to breathe when Link was looking right at them with those baby blues. He had perfect eyes.

"And what's that one mean?" Rhett pointed to the last card. This one had no immediate inspiration for him. It looked like a farmer studying a bush with some big yellow coins growing on it. The sky behind him was flat and gray, with neither clouds nor sun.

Link cleared his throat self-consciously. "Seven pentacles. You're in the middle of something. Waiting, patient, not sure of the outcome. Something you've been putting effort into." He looked up, looking nervous and somehow exposed.

"Oh?" said Rhett, keeping his voice light, even though his heart was pounding, and his hands were sweating. "What's the whole thing mean, then? I mean, all three together?"

Link cleared his throat, pushing up his glasses self-consciously. He turned the cards face down and gathered them up with their fallen brethren. For a second, Rhett thought he wasn't going to answer. When he did, his voice was serious and a little hoarse. "It means don't give up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't recall what Link calls each of his grandmothers, or which one had him hide from lightning when he was little. (Grammy? Nana? IDK)


	5. Chapter 5

Rhett was relieved when Link agreed to move in with him and take the top bunk. 

Relieved, and anxious. 

Link would be safe now, with him, and close. But he also might feel pressure for the things Rhett wanted. He liked to think he wasn't a pushy guy—well, not too much—but he was big, and loud, and strong enough to wrangle his big cats, and basically, it was easy for him to intimidate people with his size, strength, and certainty. 

He liked Link so very much, he didn't want to do that—even though he thought he'd been given some signals that maybe his attentions were wanted, after all. Still, he had to go at Link's speed, even if it meant lots of frustrating dreams and slow, patient days. 

He was awfully glad Link was going to be bunking with him, though. It made their friendship feel so much more official. Buddies. Bunk buddies. He was secretly delighted.

Link's rambling acceptance of his offer—a few days later, when they were discussing something else entirely—had taken Rhett entirely by surprise. 

For a heart-stopping moment, he’d thought Link was agreeing to something else. His soft, sweet drawl and roundabout way of getting to the subject left Rhett in frustrated bemusement till he finally understood.

"Oh! You're agreeing to take the top bunk."

"Yeah, what did you think I was saying?" Link blinked at him, confused behind his glasses. "I was tellin' you all my reasons why and trying to say thank you. I can pay something, but not much."

"No." Rhett swallowed. "We're friends. You don't owe me anything."

"We are?" Link looked surprised, and possibly even delighted, with that smile that slowly took over his face, brightening his whole expression, all the way up past his eyes to his expressive brows.

He could look so sad sometimes. It was really nice to see him smile and mean it.

"Sure," said Rhett, heart in his throat. "Of course we're friends. Right?"

"Right. Yes." Link swallowed, nodding quickly. "I knew that."

Rhett hid his own smile, and gave Link a gentle punch on the shoulder to show his affection without having to use any words.

"Ow," said Link.

Oops.

Link rubbed his shoulder and squinted up at Rhett. "Don't play rough with a guy with glasses. I can't afford a new pair." He reached up to adjust them as if to demonstrate. He scrunched his nose up, as if that would help.

"You could always take them off," said Rhett teasingly, poking his shoulder gently. "If we decided to wrassle."

Link rolled his eyes broadly but couldn't keep back his flattered little grin. "I'm too old for wrassling."

"I'm not," said Rhett, who felt like a half-grown boy at the moment. He felt reckless and excited, giddy and hopeful, and his blood pumped faster. He wanted to swing from branches and leap into rivers and show off feats of strength to impress Link. 

He wanted Link's attention on him at all times, in all places, in every way. Even though he had a feeling that could be uncomfortable, if Link ever saw him clearly and knew exactly what he felt. So far, he was betting that Link didn't. There was no way he could face Rhett so calmly if he knew everything Rhett was feeling.

"Well, you're too big for wrassling, then," said Link, pounding home his convoluted point in that dogged way of his. "I bet you always have to win."

He wasn't entirely wrong there, but Rhett wasn't going to admit to anything. He gave Link a look he hoped was mysterious, raising his eyebrows, trying to look like a man of mystery and promise.

#

"Rhett, are you ever scared about the future?"

It was night. Link wasn't sleeping, which was a surprise, because he usually fell to sleep so quickly. They’d been bunking together for a couple of weeks now, long enough to get into a route.

He'd usually tap his fingers against the headboard for a little bit, maybe hum to himself for a minute or two, then settle down and fall asleep so fast Rhett was jealous.

Even though he worked hard, and often had sore muscles at the end of the day, sometimes Rhett was awake long into the night. He ached for sleep sometimes, but it didn't always come. Worries kept him company instead. Worries, and now a sleeping Link, so close and yet so far away.

But not tonight. Tonight his voice sounded intimately close in the darkness. The sincerity in his voice was...something. It made Rhett's heart do funny things.

"Sure," he gulped. "Of course I do. All the time." What if one of his cats got sick? What if the world got even darker and poorer? Already people struggled to keep food on the table, much less afford entertainment that kept him and Link in business.

"I don't just mean our livelihoods," said Link, as if reading his mind. 

He was doing that more and more frequently lately, but then, so was Rhett. Occasionally they started saying the same thing at the same time, or wore the same colored shirt by accident. 

It was like they were already connected on some level, beyond thought or wish. He didn't know if he always liked it...except that he liked anything that meant they were part of each other's lives, at least for now. He couldn't help thinking of further ahead, though, and how they could stay part of each other's lives. 

Sometimes in his daydreams, he planned out a future for them both. It always involved settling down somewhere in the wilderness, in a cabin surrounded by forest, just the two of them and the cats. He'd hunt and fish so there was enough for the cats and the men to eat. They wouldn't see anyone else for days. It would be just him and Link. It was a silly thing to think about, but a nice daydream he couldn't resist all the same.

"What do you mean, then?" said Rhett, curious and glad to grasp any excuse to keep talking. It was better than sleepless thoughts—and he was starting to think anything that involved Link was best of all. 

He couldn't seem to get enough of the guy, even if they were doing something stupid together, or nothing at all. Just being near him was important somehow. 

Whether anything more came of their relationship or not, he had a feeling he was always going to feel this way. That unnerved him sometimes. How had this guy become so important to him in such a short time, as if he was the missing piece of Rhett’s soul?

Link said, "I mean, I feel like something bad's coming. Not for me, not for us—for the whole world."

Rhett thought about that. "You mean you know the future? I thought you didn't believe in that."

"Well, I don't, not exactly. But haven't you ever had a—a premonition? Like you can feel something bad's coming, it's heavy in the air, even if you don't know what it is. You hear a certain bird call and it sounds like death to you, and then later you find out your uncle died that very day, maybe that very same hour. I can't explain it if you haven't felt it. But I feel it a lot lately."

"Not about us? About the world?" Rhett was inclined to pooh-pooh the idea of knowing the future, especially as a vague impression, but he didn't want to tonight, in the dark, with Link sounding so sad and insecure. 

"Yeah. The world." Link sighed. 

"Well, things have been bad all over, for a while now," agreed Rhett. "But you feel like it's something more than that, huh?" Anything to keep Link talking to him, to not feel so alone in the dark. "What do the cards tell you? Or, I mean, what meaning does your subconscious pull from them?" 

He figured that's what it was with the bird cry, too. Something that made you feel uneasy at the time, but that you'd forget if you didn't find out later something bad had actually happened that day. Link's uneasy feelings could be about his daily life struggles, his torn feelings about getting closer to Rhett, something else entirely—or nothing at all.

Still, it didn't take a genius to look around and see that times were hard. The news showed it was bad all over the place, lots of awful things going on. Take a sensitive, high-strung guy like Link, and sure, he could probably "sense" evil things coming all day long. Didn't mean he was right—but it also didn't mean he was wrong.

Link hesitated answering. "I don't think you want to know."

Rhett tsked. "Come on, don't be like that. You brought it up, you obviously want to talk about it."

"Well, I do." Link tapped out another hesitant rhythm on the headboard. One of his hands dangled down off the side of the upper bunk suddenly, startling Rhett. 

With a wicked grin, Rhett reached up and caught hold of it, a quick, rough clasp of hands, not letting go. Link yelped in surprise, and started to pull free. 

"Just me, bo," said Rhett, grinning. It felt good to hold the man's hand, even under protest. 

"Aw, you surprised me." Link's long-fingered, warm hand shifted suddenly, moving to clasp with Rhett's in a surprisingly friendly grasp. 

They were holding hands, from the top and bottom bunk. 

Rhett grinned in the dark, so hard it made his eyes squinch shut. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me," he promised, earnest and soft, since nobody could see his face or how much he meant it. He didn't have to make jokes, not here, not now, in the dark, with Link baring his soul.

The hand felt good in his own. He wondered how long he could hold it. He wondered how long he could listen while Link talked, and if Link would ever want to kiss him or touch him, or if it would always just be him wanting Link, under everything their friendship could be.

Link let out a big, jagged breath, like the sound a child might make after crying for a long time, then running out of tears. 

"War," said Link softly. "When I look at the cards, I see war. Bigger and worse than I can imagine." He drew in another shuddery breath, and gave Rhett's hand a little squeeze before releasing and sliding free, drawing his hand back up onto the top bunk with him. Rhett missed its warmth. 

"What, worse than the Great War?" Rhett was surprised out of his longing by the thought. 

Things weren't that bad, surely. Yes, there was a lot of tension around the world, but he was pretty sure nothing that bad could ever happen again. People weren't that stupid, surely.

"Well, at least as bad," said Link. "It feels like—like a giant skeleton creeping up over the land, watching us all, all around the world, and nobody will admit they can see it. So am I the only one? I have to pretend not to see. But I—I still see it. Bad stuff, Rhett. Real bad."

"Well," said Rhett, "I hope you don't mind me saying, I hope you're wrong. But if you're not, we'll get through it together, okay?" 

He bit his lip, regretting what he'd just said. Maybe Link wasn't ready for that level of commitment. Maybe he was too skittish even for words that showed how much Rhett cared, how much Rhett thought of him. How much Rhett planned for their future together, in spite of himself.

"Yeah." Link's sigh was soft, relieved. 

The bed creaked a little, and for a second, Rhett thought he was climbing down. But no, he was just getting more comfortable. 

"You and me,” agreed Link. “I know you're important to me, Rhett, and I know I'm important to you, too. I—I don't have the rest of it figured out. Maybe I don't need to right now."

"What do the cards tell you about that?" Rhett should’ve bitten his tongue and counted his blessings, but he was grinning, staring at the top bunk above him, the little dip in the thin mattress above, separating him from Link. 

He could poke his finger at Link and jostle him, if he was feeling just a bit sillier. But it would spoil the mood. It might make Link yelp. And Rhett had to at least try to act his age, when they were having a serious conversation. 

He wasn't a kid anymore, even if Link sometimes made him feel that way.

"The cards?" Link snorted. "Man, you're just trying to get me to admit to something!"

"Well, sure, what's wrong with that?" Then he did reach up, tentatively, and poked at one of the lumps, about where Link's shoulder probably was pressing in. 

"Hey!" Link's lump shifted away, and he suppressed a snicker. "Watch it, buddy!" A second later, the bed groaned and moved, and he leaned down, his hand swept down, with a pillow, aimed surprisingly well. 

Rhett jerked back and yanked it out of his hand before it could connect. "Gotta be faster than that!"

"Hey! Give me back my pillow!"

"No. You'll just hit me with it. What do the cards tell you?" About me, he wanted to say. About kissing me. 

But all he could say was what he had, in a silly, teasing tone. It couldn't sound like it mattered. Even though it did.

Link grunted a little, and swung down from the bed. He leaned in, making a grab for the pillow, but Rhett was too fast for him, moving back quickly into the corner of the bed, bracing his long legs up between himself and Link. Link made another grab, diving at him from the side, fully on the bed now. 

Rhett swatted him with the pillow, starting to laugh.

Link lunged at him, this time with tickling fingers, making the bed creak dangerously. He found Rhett's ribs with far too much strength and skill. 

Rhett abandoned the pillow and went right back at Link, returning the tickling blows with his longer reach, and overpowering Link pretty quickly, pinning him beneath Rhett on the bottom bunk. 

They were both breathing hard, laughing, struggling, and Link's soft little "Hey! Ow!" did nothing to stop Rhett. 

"You gonna stop?" Rhett was breathing hard, almost right into Link's face, and that didn't bother him a bit. 

It felt good to hold down the strong, skinny, wriggly man. Real good. Link felt so alive under him, so responsive. But he was no match for Rhett, not really. 

Link stilled his struggles for a second, thinking about it. "Are you gonna give me back my pillow?" They were both breathing hard, and close to laughing, and yet both getting more serious about everything all at once.

"If you don't hit me with it again,” Rhett bargained.

"Okay." Link tried to get up, but Rhett didn't let him up yet.

"And tell me about the cards,” Rhett added. He was just being stubborn at this point, but he didn't care.

Link laughed. It was such a contagious, overwhelmed, full-bodied laugh, he seemed entirely helpless to it. He turned his face away from Rhett's, his whole body shaking with the laugh. "Yes—yes—okay. Yes."

Rhett didn't know what was so funny, but he was laughing, too. He felt winded and alive and very good, and very, very silly. 

He got off Link and helped him up, patting off his shoulder for imaginary dust. He pressed Link's pillow into his arms and settled into a sitting position beside him on the bed, side by side, almost thigh to thigh. 

They were grown men, and the bunks were by necessity made to fit the room, not otherwise. It felt intimate and friendly sitting next to each other like this, slightly winded from their wrassling. So much for being too old for it!

Link leaned against him, brief and affectionate, head resting against his shoulder like a friendly creature rubbing against him, or at least as close as he'd let himself come. 

He was hugging that pillow like he needed to hold onto something. He caught his breath, and Rhett caught his, cautiously sliding an arm around Link’s shoulders. He hoped it would seem companionable, not pushy. 

Link leaned—snuggled?—into him, and huffed softly. "The card I keep getting, for me, is the fool card."

Rhett couldn't help himself. "What, 'cause you're a fool?" 

Link giggled again and reached over, aiming a loose punch at him. 

Rhett caught his fist and didn't let him connect. "Don't start that again or we'll be here all night." He knew himself well enough to know he didn't like losing—and he definitely didn't mind wrassling.

"No, _not_ 'cause I'm a fool. Well, maybe that, too." Link laughed again, softer. "It's—the card of beginnings. New journeys and fresh starts. A leap of faith into the unknown. It means the start of something new—and something good."

For a second, Rhett could hardly breathe. "Oh. And I'm—I'm the new thing?"

"Yeah, Rhett. You're the new thing. And I'm the fool that can't resist you." His voice had gotten real soft and husky, and he turned to Rhett now, twisting his fist free of Rhett's. He caught Rhett’s wrist instead, using his whole body to lean into Rhett and turn him towards Link. He leaned up—and meet his lips to Rhett's.

It was a light kiss, a short kiss, just a little kiss. And it was all the fireworks of the Fourth of July, all at once, inside Rhett.

He moved to catch hold of Link, to pull him into his arms for a longer, proper kiss—a big, long, deep kiss—but Link twisted free with surprising dexterity. 

"'Scuse me, Rhett!" He tugged at the pillow, then abandoned it when Rhett tried to pull him back. Rhett made a growl of frustration not unlike what one of his big cats might've made. Link's laugh was quick and nervous. "Now, you promised me my pillow!"

"Come here and take it from me." He grinned up at Link, feral in the dark. 

Link laughed again, intrigued, uncertain. Rhett tried to reach out for him again. It was just the two of them in the dark, and they both wanted this. And his self-control was at a breaking point. Link had kissed him, and now he hovered close and hesitating in the dark.

Rhett started to get up, and Link took a quick step back, with a yelp of surprise when he barked his shin against something. "Oh! Dagnabbit, Rhett!" he complained. "Don't make me fall!"

"I didn't. You did that yourself. Are ya okay?" He was up now, beside Link, but to support him, not to catch him. 

Link bent over, rubbing his leg, hissing a little at the pain. 

"You okay?" Rhett tried to rub the leg, too, to comfort him. He didn't like seeing Link hurt. 

"I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm okay." He leaned on Rhett a little. "Just let me go back to bed. I want my pillow." He sounded stubborn and certain now, so Rhett helped Link up into bed with gentle, lingering hands. 

Link huffed, but didn't complain, as he settled under the blankets. "Pillow," he demanded.

Rhett released his shoulder with a gentle squeeze and handed him up his pillow. "Anything else, sweetheart?" he asked in a too-sweet voice. 

The darkness made him brave. He gave Link's chest a little pat.

"Yes. You gotta wait till I'm ready." Link was trying to sound dignified. 

Rhett gave him another, softer pat. "I can do that." Reluctantly, he withdrew, getting back into his own bed. His heart was pounding hard. He wanted more, but he could wait. 

So much had happened tonight. Link had shared his fears about the future, and admitted he was thinking about taking the leap with Rhett. They'd wrassled, and Rhett had even gotten a kiss, though it definitely hadn't been long enough. 

He lay still on the bottom bunk, trying to calm his body and mind down enough to sleep. He didn't know if he could take care of his need quietly enough not to disturb Link, so he would have to wait. He could do that. But he would need to think of something else...

"Rhett?" asked Link. This time his voice was small. He sounded insecure, younger. 

"Yeah?" Rhett held his breath, wondering what was wrong.

"You'll still like me, if we—you know? If we do anything?" He gulped audibly. "I—I mean, w-w-we'll still be friends?" The soft lisp at the edge of his voice made Rhett's heart clench. He wasn't sure why.

"Yeah, bo, we'll be friends. Why would we ever want to stop?"

"Oh," said Link. "I wasn't sure. S-sometimes it's not like that, you know. And I couldn't bear it if we weren't. You're—you're real important to me, now."

It was Rhett's turn to say 'oh,' as understanding slowly dawned. "That's happened for you, huh?" It was far too easy to imagine Link getting his poor heart broke over some guy he’d thought would still care about him, and then didn’t, afterwards.

"No. I mean, I don't want to talk about that. Just...I don't want to _not_ be friends, that's all."

"I'll always be your friend, Link Neal," said Rhett solemn as an oath. 

He shifted so he could reach up, and tapped his hand against the side of the bunk, gesturing for Link to take it. Link hesitated, then took hold of the offered hand, and gave it a tentative squeeze. It was like a silent promise, a language all its own.


	6. Chapter 6

It was Sunday, and this town didn't allow entertainment on Sunday. So the carnival people had a day to themselves, for upkeep and relaxation and fun. 

To be honest, Rhett was real grateful to have a day off, even if it meant less income. It felt like they'd all been working harder and longer lately, for less and less. Sometimes it was a struggle to keep body and soul together. 

He was grateful he could at least look after Link a little bit, since they were sharing sleeping quarters now. They ate together, they shared more and more of their days lately, when they weren't working, and now they had a whole day for it, and a picnic to boot.

"Jus' sammiches," said Link, holding up a handkerchief wrapped around something. His drawl was lazier and his grin happier than usual. He walked with a bounce in his step.

Rhett wanted to take his tiger and lion, but he couldn't have them off-leash in a strange neighborhood where somebody might shoot at 'em, and he couldn't focus on time with Link if he had to keep up with two big cats getting playful on a summer's day.

"If we find a crick, we can maybe do some fishing," suggested Rhett. There was a bounce in his step, too. He wondered if it would be OK to put his arm around Link while they walked, or if it would be better for him to wait.

He had visions of them rolling around in a meadow together, giggling, then making out. They'd find somewhere private, so if they went all the way, nobody'd find them with their pants down.

Mmm. It was gonna be a good picnic.

#

"Rhett?" said Link. He had a contemplative tone, as he lay on his back in the meadow, chewing on a long piece of grass, watching the clouds go by.

Okay, so they hadn't jumped each other's bones the second it was barely decent. 

They'd found a quiet place by a crick that didn't have enough water in it for any fish. But it was cooler here, and they had some shade, and peace and quiet. It was a good day, with a blackbird singing from a nearby fence post, and cows lowing in the distance, and the chirr and hum of insects and summer heat. 

The meadow smelled sweet and the water smelled cool, and Link was here, stretched out an arm's length from him. If Rhett flopped his arm out, he could touch him. But somehow it didn't feel like the right thing to make the first move. This was a day of grace and rest, not pushing Link if he wasn't ready. 

Rhett wasn’t gonna push. He was classy as hell. It sure would be nice if Link was ready, though. 

The ground wasn't real flat here, and Rhett's back was starting to tell him he should change positions, but he felt too lazy at the moment.

"Hm? What?" he asked.

"You see that cloud?" Link reached across and swapped him on the arm.

Rhett gave him a stern look, but he didn't notice. If Link wanted to get physical, there were better things they could do.

"Which one?" he asked. 

"That 'un. It looks like a train, don't you think? Kinda like your train car?" He turned his head to squint at Rhett. "Do you think it means something?"

"You see symbols and meanings everywhere, don't you?" said Rhett, no longer even slightly annoyed. "See any beds up there?" He gave Link a wink.

Link turned away. "I'ma see your bed in a minute," he said in a low, threatening sort of voice.

Rhett laughed. He couldn't help himself. "What? That's—that would be great. How is that a threat?"

"I don't know man." Link covered his face with his hands. "You get me all flustered! It's not my fault I say dumb things."

"Oh, and you only ever say dumb things when I fluster you, huh?" Rhett couldn't resist. Link's eyes covered, his arms raised, made a far too tempting target. He edged nearer and gave Link a couple of quick tickles, making him writhe away and yelp in protest, laughing as he fought Rhett off him.

"Unfair! You're takin' advantage!"

"Well, you been swatting at me, son, you gotta expect some payback." He decided to stop before he lost control and straddled Link, holding him down just so he could enjoy the wiggling, squirming, panting feel of him. 

But he sure wanted to keep going.

Link kept laughing, wiping his eyes from tears. "Oh, Rhett, you make me laugh too hard!"

 _I'd like to make you do something else too hard_. Rhett told himself to get his mind out of the gutter. He was a perfectly patient and reasonable man. Reasonable. Patient. Reasonable...

Link rolled over to look at him, a grin and a naughty look on his face. "So when are you gonna have your wicked way with me?"

Rhett half laughed, half choked. "What? Any time you want, Link! You know I'm ready. I'm holding off to be a _gentleman_."

Link crossed his arms over his chest and widened his eyes at Rhett a little, then bit his lip. He released that bottom lip slowly, and made it quiver a little. "Oh, what a shame it would be, if I was here all vulnerable in a field—"

"Meadow," corrected Rhett.

Link made a face at him, then laughed, tilting his head back, showing his neck. "This here meadow." He giggled, and shook his head, and went on. "All vulnerable here in this meadow, and some big strong man was to—to take advantage of me." He reached down, and opened his trousers, just enough to give a hint—and adjusted himself slightly. 

Rhett's mouth went dry.

"Oh, I couldn't _bear_ it," Link added with an over the top, teasing voice, and a wink to follow it up. 

Link raised his arms above his head and stretched them out, rolling onto his side, looking like something decadent and indecent from a painting. His eyes twinkled at Rhett, and his cheeks were chubby-looking from smiling so hard.

"I should tie you to a railroad track if you're gonna act like a fainting heroine," growled Rhett, but he was grinning too, grinning so hard it hurt his cheeks. "You're awful naughty, aren't you?" 

He moved over to Link, and tugged lightly on the half-open trousers, then reached around and gave Link a swat on his butt. Third and best of all, he leaned in and gave Link a quick little kiss on that mouth. 

"Oughta spank you," he said, low and breathy, and maybe not quite like a threat, close to Link’s ear.

Link turned away, biting his lip, trying not to giggle. He waggled his butt slightly, displaying it more fully. 

Rhett hauled him up a little, getting a good feel of his cock through his half-open trousers, feeling how hard it was, that Link was ready for this after all—that he didn't mind the idea at all.

"Oughta spank that naughty boy," said Rhett, real low, and got his fingers under the edge of the trousers, and began to work them down. "So he'll be good for me."

"We're both bad boys, dontcha think," said Link. "Getting up to dirty things on the Lord's day."

"Think he minds?" Rhett gave an experimental swat on the smooth bare skin. 

Link jumped a little, and his breath hitched. 

Yeah. They were playing, but they were also doing this. Now, together, in a meadow—not quite like Rhett had thought, but maybe even better.

"Hm?" said Rhett, and gave Link another swat, harder, like he meant it. The flat of his hand made a smacking sound. Link jerked again, but didn't answer. "I asked you a question, boy."

"I can't—I don't know what you said," said Link, trembling a little. "You wanna do something about this?" He palmed his cock, reaching awkwardly, without trying to move from the butt-up position Rhett had put him in. 

"Yeah," said Rhett, laughing a little. "I wanna do something about that." 

He gave Link another slap, a hard one that made him yelp, and apparently had quite the effect on his dick, too. Then he rolled Link onto his side, and onto his back, and straddled him, and leaned down and kissed him, hard. 

"I'mma take advantage of you, in the meadow," he growled, checking Link's eyes, one last time, just to be sure they were on the same page.

Link fluttered his eyelashes demurely, reached up, and put his hands on Rhett's shoulders, resting them there, panting a little. "Please do."

He looked so good under Rhett, disheveled and muscular, and smiling and flushed. But the semblance of patience was given away by him trying to hump up against Rhett's leg.

Rhett laughed, and pushed Link's legs apart, thumped him back down, and gave him a light pat on the cheek that would've been a swat if it had been harder. "Then be patient and let me show you what I can do."

"I don't think I can be patient. Rhett." Link whined a little as Rhett manhandled him into the position he wanted—flat on his back, knees wide, with plenty of room for Rhett to get down there and tease him with his mouth and his facial hair. For a good long time.

"Don't you?" asked Rhett sweetly. "Well, I had to be." 

And then he got to work, showing that it had been worth the wait for him, and would be for Link, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Link was trembling. Just a bit, but it was noticeable from the way he held his hand out, waiting for the big cats to sniff him.

He yanked his hand back at the last second. Rhett tried not to sigh. "They won't hurt you," he promised.

"I know. It's just that they're so big!" His eyes were wide, training on the lion and tiger. Rhett had hoped they could all be friends, especially since he and Link were going to spend the rest of their lives together, if he had any say in it.

But he didn't want to torture his lover, either. He sighed quietly. "Okay, Link, never mind. We can try again some other time, if you want."

Link drew back quickly, with his implied permission given. He didn't quite run from the tied up animals, but close to it. They were watching him with interest, but he hadn't actually gotten quite close enough to touch. 

Rhett knew his creatures were tame, but even so, it wasn't necessarily a smart idea to run in front of them like that, like a beast of prey. The tiger made a small, abortive leap and then stopped short at the end of his length of chain. He swished his tail and made a rumbling sort of grumble in his throat, swiping a paw out towards the retreating figure.

"Oh god." Link covered his face with his hands, trembling. "They want to kill me."

"No, no, honey," promised Rhett. (He loved it when he could use any sort of endearment for Link.) "You don't have to interact with them. It's okay." 

He patted Link's back awkwardly. The tiger couldn't help its instincts, to chase, to catch, and possibly to bite, though usually he only wanted to play and had no idea that he could hurt anyone.

Rhett watched his animal friends sadly. He knew this life was frustrating for them sometimes. They had to be so well-behaved to be safe around people, and they couldn't move as much as they wanted to. They'd never really be wild, but they'd never really be tame. 

A life on the edges was the most they could probably ever have.

"I wish I had the space to make them a really nice place," said Rhett, rubbing Link's back gently. It was far too easy to touch Link, and Link liked it. But Rhett withdrew his hand uneasily when he remembered anyone could come upon them like this. They couldn't really count on being alone unless they were damned sure they were alone.

That day in the field...the day they'd gone all the way...that was so special to Rhett. But they hadn't risked it since; now they were only intimate behind closed doors.

And Link lived with Rhett, and they travelled together, and if anyone thought anything of that, they kept it to themselves. Carnival folk had learned to live and let live; everybody had their quirks, and you didn't ask too many personal questions or uphold the standards of the church-going, decency-twisted set if you wanted to get along and be happy, and have folks mind their business about you.

"I'm sorry," said Rhett sadly. "I thought you could get to know them."

"From the inside, maybe," said Link, and laughed a little hysterically. "I don't mean to let you down, Rhett, but I'm—I'm—" He shook his head, running out of words. 

"It's fine. It's okay," said Rhett.

Sometimes so much about their lives—all four of them—seemed tenuous and at risk. He shouldn't grieve for what couldn't be. This just wasn't Link's thing, that was all.

Rhett knew it wasn't fair to want everything to be theirs, not just his or Link's. But he still wanted that. He'd even tried to learn to read cards, just so it was one more thing to share. He wasn't very good at it, but it was fun to sit side by side, and shuffle and pull cards, and have Link tell him what they meant, his head bent close to Rhett's, his voice soft and serious.

However silly his job might seem to some, Link took it seriously, and he really cared about it. His readings weren't always positive, but he liked to believe they helped people. Giving a few moments of distraction, some hope or advice, or just something to look forward to—a good future coming. 

Maybe, someday, if you squinted, down the line, things would get better. 

#

"Do a reading for our future?" suggested Rhett that night, as they were getting ready for bed. Link had recovered from his scare, Rhett from his disappointment. "I mean, unless you'd rather not." 

He knew Link had been busy reading most of the afternoon—a long line for his tent today, with the uncertainty of the world making people have questions about the future, perhaps more than usual—and maybe he wouldn’t want to keep going.

"Sure," said Link, yawning. He got out his deck, sat on the bottom bunk, and began to shuffle and then lay out cards. 

He stopped. “Wait, what do you want to know? I already laid the cards and I forgot to ask.” He looked up, chagrinned. "Sorry, I'm a bit sleepy."

"Maybe it was a bad idea," said Rhett. "I don't want to push you to exhaustion."

"Funny guy," said Link. "You can do that later."

Rhett laughed, and adjusted his trousers, which somehow had become uncomfortably tight. "Well, uh, just read whatever you've got and we'll set it aside for tonight. Maybe I shouldn't have asked without a specific question anyway."

Link shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He flipped the cards over one by one. He stared down at them, and grew still. "Oh. Hm. Maybe this would be better later." He flipped the cards over before Rhett saw them.

"What? What did they say?" Rhett was immediately incensed that Link had hidden the uncomfortable message from him. "I get to know, too!"

Link cast him a look that was embarrassed and apologetic. "Oh. Of course you do—if you're sure you want to."

"Of course I do. We’re partners,” said Rhett. “Is it really that bad?" He came and stood next to Link, putting a hand on his lower back. He nudged Link slightly. 

Link obligingly turned the cards back over again to their original places.

"It depends what you mean by bad," he said in a small, rather sad and far away-sounding voice. 

He pointed to the first card, which was upside down. It had a picture of a powerful-looking man seated behind two sphinxes. "Chariot Reversed. Out of control momentum, risk." 

He pointed to the second upside-down card, that had some sad-looking people crossing a river on a boat with some swords on it. "Six of Swords—reversed. Difficulty or sorrow, or trouble getting away from something. Feeling trapped." 

He pointed to the third card, a bad one, Rhett knew: "And the Tower—destruction, catastrophe." 

He sighed and massaged his temple. "I wouldn't call it a great reading, no. And we didn't ask anything specific enough to know what part of our lives we should be wary about."

"We can try again and ask some better questions," suggested Rhett. It couldn’t be specifically about their relationship...could it? 

Link just stood there, staring down at the cards, looking discouraged. "I know. I'm too tired now, though. I’d be off balance for anything I pulled, looking for the worst and worrying. I probably should have waited.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and grimaced. “Let's just go to bed."

It was the only thing to do. But neither of them felt great about it, and Rhett regretted asking his question now. At least he could hold Link in his arms, and know they were together right now, and safe.

“We’ll get through it,” he promised. “Whatever it is.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” said Link, muffled. He was pressed as close to Rhett as he could get. His lips tickled Rhett’s skin when he spoke.

“Maybe,” agreed Rhett. 

Neither of them seemed to believe it.


	8. Chapter 8

How could it all have gone so wrong? 

"Here, boy. Here, boy," called Rhett, his voice on the edge of trembling. "I've got some meat for you."

If the townsfolk found out the tiger had escaped, they'd hunt him down and kill him. Maybe Rhett, too. He couldn't dismiss the terrifying ideas that came to him, here, wandering in the dark, trying to bring his tiger home.

This hadn’t seemed like the friendliest of towns even before this. If only this hadn’t happened!

It wasn't even as though his furry friend had actually escaped. Troublesome teens had cut through the lock on the door in the night; the curious tiger had pawed the door open enough to slip out. Rhett had been awakened from a sound sleep by the scratching, and gone to find out what was happening—just in time to see his precious beast slipping away into the night, tail high as he bounded off to have an adventure.

He didn't know anything about living on his own. Certainly not that he should be afraid of humans—that he could lose his life by going out on his own. 

Rhett had barely been in time to stop the sleepier lion from following his best friend. 

Link had groggily followed him out; it had been he who saw the lock had been cut; he who promised to fix the door, so Rhett could run after the tiger and try to tempt him home with meat.

But now, Rhett was alone, with only a small lantern bobbing in the dark, trying to call his tiger.

His tiger, who loved him, but got frustrated being locked up. His tiger, who could see better than Rhett ever would in the dark, and who wasn't actually hungry, even for a choice cut of meat, which this wasn't.

Even if he got hungry, he could probably catch rabbits or deer. Rhett hadn't taught him to hunt, but he was young and strong, with a powerful, playful energy and sharp teeth and claws. If he learned he could catch his own meat, would there ever be a way to bring him home? That was if the news of his escape didn't hit the news first, and people came out to hunt a tiger...

Rhett stumbled on in the dark, biting his lip to try not to cry, and once in a while, raising his voice, calling his lost friend.

If he couldn't find the tiger tonight and bring him home, would he ever see his poor friend again?

#

"Rhett?" Link's soft voice, accompanied by a second lantern, pulled him back to reality. It was almost dawn. He hadn't found his friend. He'd been sitting down—only for a moment—to rest, and shivering hard in the night air.

"I brought you a coat," said Link, draping heavy material around Rhett's shoulders.

"You have a coat?" Rhett was surprised. "I've never seen you wearing it." And by all rights, he should have been. It was winter, after all. 

"Well, some of my robes," said Link. He sat down beside Rhett, and put an arm around him. He leaned close, snuggling in, giving Rhett comfort and warmth. "I made sure it's bolted and I woke up some people to guard the area and make sure nobody else got vandalized. We shouldn't have kids sabotaging the carnival."

"Do you think it was kids?" Rhett had had time to think, and he was doubting even that. "After all, I didn't see them. I just assumed."

"Somebody cut the lock. I guess it doesn't matter if it was kids or grownups."

"My poor tiger," said Rhett, lowering his face, feeling very low. 

"Here, let's turn off your lantern to save fuel. We'll use mine for a while, since we'll stick together, Okay?"

"Okay." Rhett sighed. He felt too cold, tired, and weary to ever move again, but he knew he needed to get up and go back to looking.

Link patted his back gently, till he was ready, then offered him a hand up. Link was stronger than he looked, or at least than he looked sometimes, in his tattered robes, eyes worried behind his glasses, trying to figure out how to help someone with his cards. Now he was trying to help Rhett, and it felt very fruitless indeed.

But they couldn't give up, not if there was a chance, any chance at all.

"It'll be dawn soon," said Link. "We might be able to find some tracks then. In the meantime, why not head towards the river?"

It was no worse an idea than any other. After all, if it hadn't headed towards the river, it had headed towards town, and that would be very bad indeed. A morning romp to chase a few chickens would probably mean the end of its life, unless Rhett and Link were very fast and very cunning, and could somehow get out of town before they were caught. Not an easy thing to do, when they needed a whole train car and two big cats safely stowed.

Link kept a hand on Rhett's arm while they walked, so they could steady each other. They had to move slowly across uneven ground and unfamiliar terrain. It was so danged dark.

They passed the lantern back and forth, taking turns carrying it. Sometimes, they held hands as they walked.

Even though this was one of his worst nightmares so far, Rhett couldn't help being grateful. At least Link was here with him.


	9. Chapter 9

The thin, watered-down morning light found them on the bank of the river, staring around helplessly. 

The river was wide here, dotted with islands. The air smelled cold and clean, and morning bird songs were beginning, with a sleepy, nostalgic music that reminded Rhett of childhood. 

It was hard to feel anything but miserable, though, as he looked around.

He was no closer to finding his tiger friend, and time was slipping away, fast.

No visible tracks. But there wasn't a lot of ground that could show tracks, even a tiger's deep, careful tread. The greenery grew thick and lush right up to the edge. Link tried wading down to the water's edge to try to peer at the mud right in the water, in case there were any tracks there, where the tiger, not minding water, might have gotten his paws wet as he loped along, or perhaps went in for a swim.

It was a long shot, and there were no tracks visible by the early morning light.

At least they could see by the sun before the lantern had given out with its fainter beams.

"I don't see anything," said Link, looking up at Rhett. He opened his mouth to say something more, but it never came out. He slipped, sliding into the mud at the shallow edge. "Oh!" he gasped. "It's so cold!"

Rhett moved towards him automatically, holding out a hand to pull him up.

Link clasped his hand and pulled, drawing himself up. Rhett braced himself. His attention, however, was caught by something moving on the nearest island.

Was that...a streak of yellow movement? "Link, the island, look!"

Link, turning quickly, moving too fast...hand pulling free of Rhett. He fell in again, further, into the deeper water. How he managed it, Rhett wasn't afterwards certain. He was certain, however, that he kicked himself many times for letting Link slip, for distracting him—for not guessing his friend and lover could fall in that moment. 

Or what it might mean.

The water, deepening fast, was swift and very, very cold—much colder than the air, already enough to make a man shiver and wish for warmer clothes. The river was dangerous like that, when you didn't know the area and the depths, when the water wasn't warm—when it was deep and fast and you didn't come up, after you fell in.

"Link!" Rhett called, looking around, getting frightened. Link could swim, couldn't he?  _ Couldn't he? _

Did it matter, when the water was this cold?

Rhett didn't think. He went in after Link.

The intense cold ripped away every part of his strength. He couldn't seem to move, to breathe. The water drew him away, and he tried weakly to swim. It was like he was going as slow as a slug. A baby swimming, with a baby's strength and coordination. 

Maybe he couldn't save Link. Maybe he couldn't even save himself.

He saw Link now, bobbing up, his dark hair slick against his head. Heard a gasp for breath over the river's noisy current. Saw him moving just as weakly. He was swimming towards the island.

Rhett wanted to tell him to head back towards shore, but he didn't have the breath to call, even to swim. He kept moving after Link, with the current, and Link kept moving towards the island, their slow motion dog paddle not very effective in the busy river.

Would they survive? Would they get back in one piece? What had Rhett seen on the island? Maybe they would live to find out.

Just then there was a very loud splash, and into Rhett's view, from the island, swam the tiger. He looked large in the water, even mostly submerged, his head up, his face looking eager and intent. He bobbed towards them, strokes powerful in the cold river.

Link, ahead of Rhett, seemed to make a movement to jerk away, but it was ineffective.

Rhett hadn't thought he could feel any more cold than he already did, with no real feeling in his arms or legs. But in that moment, his heart went cold, too.

The tiger was tame, yes. But did they look like prey, flailing weakly in the water? The tiger didn't know his own strength, not really. If he got playful now, and followed his hunting drive...

Was Rhett going to have to watch Link die? 

He couldn't shout out to either one of them. It was like a nightmare, when you tried to move and couldn't. Nothing he did could prevent whatever came next.

But what came next was the tiger moved straight past Link, towards Rhett. It jumped at him, half playful, half excited. 

Down Rhett went, under heavy paws, a fierce strong tongue catching him with a wet, warm lick on his face as he went down. Rhett made himself limp so he could float down, then up; he wouldn't struggle or engage the creature in play. He wasn't capable of either right now.

A hand grasped him by the shirt, pulled. 

It was Link, and he was somehow, impossibly, riding on the back of the tiger. Struggling, gasping, grabbing at Rhett's shirt and pulling. How had that happened?

The tiger was swimming, swimming with hard, fast movements towards the shore. And somehow he was letting Link ride on him. Link, holding onto Rhett's shirt, dragged him along with them.

The tiger's ears were back now, intent on shore, twitching with interest. Rhett was busy trying not to drown as he was dragged along. 

The tiger drew himself from the water, and Rhett and Link with him. His powerful muscles rippled, and his giant paws padded gently over the ground. He turned to Rhett and gave his head a couple of big, rough licks.

"Get up, Rhett," said Link. His voice shook. "He might eat you."

Rhett was still too cold to breathe properly, but he managed to shake his head, lying there, on his back, staring up at the morning sky and the tiger licking him.

"Rhett!" complained Link.

Rhett reached up very gingerly and scratched the tiger's chin, with the little strength he had. The tiger snorted, shook his head, and then his whole body to get the water off.

Link fell off into the grass with an 'oof.' "We have to catch him, Rhett. Get up. Please get up." His voice was shaky and he sounded distressed.

But Rhett wasn't worried. Not anymore. Not at all. Everything was all right now.

"We have to get him back.  _ Please _ get up, Rhett." He crawled over to Rhett, tried to shake him, but he didn't have his strength fully back yet, either. He'd been clinging to the tiger and to Rhett, and the water had been rough on both of them.

They needed to get warm and dry, Rhett knew. But he also knew they were okay. Nobody was going to die today. It was such a lightheaded, wonderful feeling of relief. His lover, his tiger, his own life: all recovered safe and sound. It was a beautiful day, after all.

The tiger flopped down on the ground not far away, snorting and rolling around on his back in the meadow grass. The air smelled of clean, green things, and a faint, dried-clover, hay-like smell. Every sense seemed more alert, in this moment. Life seemed so very, very precious.

"Rhett," complained Link. And then he gave up and flopped down beside Rhett, letting out a disgruntled sigh. His head landed against Rhett's shoulder and he stayed there, close. 

"Just let me catch my breath, bo," whispered Rhett, reaching up and fumbling to catch Link's hand in his own. 

Link leaned into him and sighed. "Thought we were gonna die," he whispered.

"We aren't," promised Rhett. "I'm not leaving you, and you're not leaving me."

"I hope you're right.  _ Please _ catch your tiger, Rhett. He'll get away again."

Rhett didn't have the energy to explain that the tiger didn't want to get away. He knew his home, his family, his friends. He was rolling happily in the grass. 

But Link was right; they had to get him back soon.

Rhett pushed himself to his feet with a quiet groan and helped Link up. Then they began the long process of bringing the tiger, and themselves, home.

Home. Was it home, this traveling life? Or would they do something else in future? Rhett wondered, but he wasn't really concerned about it, not too much, not at the moment. It was all going to be okay, whatever happened.

They'd figure it out, together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to include something about Link feeling like the tiger and the river, their journey through the water, gave him a feeling like being part of a myth, or something about mythicality, a mythical beast, etc. Something about Styx maybe? But it just didn't fit. Instead, here's the final chapter, no mythicality included, unfortunately.

Link yawned, stretched, and blinked up at Rhett. He smiled the sweetest smile, still half asleep, his eyes alight and happy. "Oh, Rhett, I had the best dream!"

"Oh? What was it?" asked Rhett. He was exhausted from their day, but Link had been so tired he'd fallen asleep on the bottom bunk after barely getting dried off from their dunking. 

Rhett had taken care of his big cats, including arranging some better security and locks. They'd be leaving this town soon, so hopefully vandals wouldn't be an issue anymore. He was tired now, too, though. It had been a big day by anyone's standards. Link was on his, the lower, bunk. Not that they didn't usually share it. But still. He moved Link enough that he could sit down beside him and patted his side. 

Link certainly seemed well warmed up. Be nice if he could share some of that body heat with Rhett.

"I saw us in the future. Well, it felt like the future. A little cabin in the mountains, with lots of trees. It was so nice! You had a safe place all fenced in for your beasts, and we hunted and grew a big garden. You had a big old beard and a lot of curly hair, sort of reddish-golden looking, so you kinda looked like a lion yourself—"

Rhett snorted. "You know I can't grow that much facial hair," he pointed out, rubbing his chin. He wished he could.

"Well, in the dream you could. We were getting old together, but we still felt young." Link sighed happily, squeezing his eyes shut and getting in one more decadent stretch. "It was such a nice dream, Rhett! I really liked it."

"I'm glad," said Rhett. He bent over and stole a kiss. Link's eyes popped open, but he didn't jerk away. He stared up at Rhett with round, wondering eyes and then kissed him back slowly, like it was worth taking his time and doing it right.

"The animals okay?" asked Link, shifting over to make room on the bed, and reaching for Rhett's waist, his hand settling there possessively.

"Yep," said Rhett. 

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Rhett could've purred. He stroked his small beard once or twice, then started taking off his clothes, a smile on his lips. What a good end to a day that had felt like a nightmare for so long!

Link watched him undress. His eyes held a lot of things, appreciation and tenderness, hunger and satisfaction. He watched Rhett bare his body in the low lantern light, here, in their private sanctuary, their own little world.

"Rhett," said Link thoughtfully. 

"Hm?"

"We're gonna be happy together, aren't we? Whatever the cards say. Whatever the dreams say. Whatever the future's like. We're gonna be happy." He let his fingers trail across Rhett's flesh, which looked golden in this light, as Rhett settled into bed with him, over him, and planted a kiss on him.

"You can bet the bank," promised Rhett, and kissed him. 

#

The next morning, Link was whistling as he did up his boots. He was in a very good mood today, and Rhett flattered himself that last night was a big reason why—it had been that good.

It had been pretty damned good for Rhett, too. He stretched decadently, enjoying the reminders in his muscles of all that they'd gotten up to last night. He watched Link with lazy, hooded eyes. 

They both had things to do. But he could watch. Just for another minute, he could watch.

Link was at the tiny fold-down table, sorting through something industriously. 

Cards. His tarot deck, Rhett realized.

"Whatcha doing, Link?" Rhett sat up, curious enough to get out of bed now.

"Look." Link pointed down at the table and laughed, a soft, pleased sound. 

Rhett joined him, shoulder to shoulder, and put an arm around his lover's broad yet shoulders. He looked down at the cards—the three cards he'd pulled the other day that had so discouraged them both.

He read them off slowly. "Chariot, reversed. Six of swords, reversed. Tower." He glanced at Link. Why was he so happy about them now?

Link nudged him gently, then turned and embraced Rhett in a hug. "Chariot—has a cat on it—about speed and danger. Six of swords—water, river. Tower—a big fall." He chuckled softly to himself. "It wasn't about our future. At least, not really. It was about yesterday's danger—the cat and the river and us falling!"

Rhett stared at the cards, then at his lover's dark hair. He wrapped his arms around Link. Could it be? Had the cards told them, but only in a roundabout way you could only see when looking back?

Nah. He shook himself. "It's just coincidence. You said yourself, you can see all sorts of different things in the cards. We see what we want to see."

Link grinned and poked at Rhett's bicep. "Tell me you don't see it. I'm—I'm glad it was nothing worse."

"That was bad enough," agreed Rhett. Then he gave in with a sigh. "All right, fine. You can read the future. It was about the river. And we live happily ever after, and I grow a big mane." 

He raised Link's chin so Link was staring up at him. Link's eyes were so happy, his face filled with delight. And Rhett thought if he looked at that face for the rest of his life, he'd never get sick of it. "So what do you see now, big boy?" he asked, his voice soft and low, almost a grow.

"Oh!" said Link. His laugh was soft and embarrassed. "Do you think we've got time? I know you don't want to miss breakfast."

Rhett didn't dignify that with an answer. He swung Link by the narrow hips back to their bed. Link giggled, wriggly and eager. "I just put my boots on," he pointed out.

"So leave 'em on," suggested Rhett. "I like your boots. You keep 'em clean."

"It's true." Link nodded proudly. "I'm a clean boy." He started opening his trousers for Rhett to have access.

He was clean inside, too, with only the faintest of masculine musk around his clean, hardening dick and the bristling hairs surrounding it. Rhett took him in hand, stroking casually. 

"You want me to suck you or fuck you?" asked Rhett. His face felt hot as he spoke; it still felt very daring as he said things like this out loud. But Link liked it; they both liked it.

Link's gaze sparkled up at him, naughty, hungry, delighted, delicious. "Mm, I think I'd like it in the ass this fine morning, Mr. McLaughlin," he said in a rather serious, formal voice that almost concealed the laughter in his tone.

"Happy to oblige, Neal," said Rhett, and together, they flipped Link over onto mattress. He spread his legs, bracing himself for Rhett's weight. 

"You're so good at this, Rhett," said Link, breathless already. He reached back with two fingers to try to work himself open sooner. Speed was paramount, so Rhett didn't tell him to wait and be patient, for once.

"You fill me up just right," continued Link. "I like tasting you. I like touching you. I like you inside me. It's all so good. I even like it when we're too tired to do anything much and we just— _ oh _ ."

His voice shook and trailed to a stop as Rhett began to work practiced fingers in with oil. He stroked and lubed his own shaft afterwards. He lined himself up with Link.

Rhett thought of a cabin in the woods—he hadn't told Link that was his daydream future, had he?—and finally growing a full beard, and the two of them being happy and together in the future. He thought of the future stretching out ahead, so many unknowns—cards or no cards—and of Link, beside him all the way. 

It was the best dream a guy could ask for, a dream come true, all the way.

"Rhett!" Link's voice shook, and his limbs were trembling, too. "Don't make me wait! Not after all that! You were the one who—"

Rhett pushed into him, shutting him up in the best possible way, as all thoughts of other times and places faded away and he was again very firmly in the present.

The future might be nice, but damn. This was already perfect.

///fin///

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently, this story has taken me 242 days, from posting chapter one till today. Or 20,908,800 seconds. Or 66.12% of 2020. Yay.
> 
> In the future, I'll try to stop posting stories before they're completely written. I didn't mean to spend so long getting this one finished.
> 
> But I also don't know if I actually have time to write fic at present. So this may be my last (and also, one of my first??) in this fandom. But then again, this is 2020, so who the hell knows what's going to happen.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Here's hoping the cards hold good things for you!


End file.
